


I Can't Lose You

by TheJediAssassinGirl



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, gay things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 05:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJediAssassinGirl/pseuds/TheJediAssassinGirl
Summary: When Crutchie gets taken to the Refuge, Jack is heartbroken. He'd planned to tell Crutchie that he loved him after that day's strike, but now he may never get the chance.





	1. Failure

Jack sank down against the wall of Miss Medda’s theater, tears streaming down his dirty face. The multiple bruises he’d received from that day’s disastrous fight stung, but that pain was nowhere near as bad as the deep ache he felt inside. He had failed his boys. Moreover, he had failed Crutchie. Crutchie’s terrified screams still rang in his ears.  
Hey—let go a me! Let go! Help! Jack! Help! Jack had wanted to help, but he couldn’t. All he’d been able to do was watch as Crutchie was dragged away by his ankle, bruised and battered, tears falling down his face as he begged and pleaded for Jack to help him.  
“Jack, come on,” Davey snapped Jack out of his daze. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Miss Medda’s making dinner.” Jack waved him away.   
“M’fine, Dave,” he mumbled.  
“No you’re not!” Davey protested. “You’re all busted up. You look awful. You need help. Please, Jack.”  
“I’m fine, Davey!” Jack snapped. “I don’t deserve it! I don’t deserve anythin’ after what I’ve done!” A fresh wave of tears poured down his face. “I failed,” he sobbed. “Crutchie’s in the Refuge cuz a me! He could be dead for all I know! I don’t deserve no more decency than the DeLanceys!” Davey left and came back a moment later with Mess Medda.  
“Jack Kelly, you get up off my floor this instant and get your ass upstairs,” Miss Medda ordered, hands on her hips.   
“But…” Jack began, but Miss Medda cut him off immediately.   
“Does it look like I wanna be backtalked right now, young man?” She demanded. “Upstairs. Now.” Jack got up and walked upstairs. Miss Medda followed, and Davey went to make sure the other boys weren’t causing trouble. “Sit,” Miss Medda said, pointing to a chair. Jack sat and let Miss Medda start cleaning him up. “So are you gonna tell me why you’re sulking?” She asked. “If you’re worried about the rest a your boys not respectin’ you, you can stop. They know it ain’t your fault.”  
“It’s not them,” Jack said. “It’s Crutchie.”  
“The happy boy with the bum leg?” Miss Medda asked. Jack nodded.   
“They dragged him off ta the Refuge,” he said. “I couldn’t save him. I promised I would, but… I froze. He was screamin’ my name, yellin’ an’ beggin’ for me ta help him, an’ I just watched.” He gulped. “It ain’t about failin’ the other guys so much as it is about failin’ him.”  
“You care about him a lot,” Miss Medda said.  
“I love him,” Jack said. A tingle ran up his spine as he realized that this was the first time he’d said that aloud. “I love him, Miss Medda. I was gonna tell him today, after the strike, but now I don’t know if I’m ever gonna see him again.”  
“You will,” Miss Medda assured him. “He may not look it, but he’s a strong one. He’ll be alright.”  
“But what if he hates me?” Jack asked.   
“He won’t,” Miss Medda said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He thinks you’re the greatest thing on god’s green earth. I don’t think he could hate you if he tried.” She put the last bandage on the scrape along Jack’s chin. “There ya go,” she said. “Now you get some rest. I’ll bring you some food.” Jack nodded obediently, getting into bed. He ate the food that Miss Medda brought him, then drifted off to sleep.


	2. Dreams

As Jack slept, he dreamed of Crutchie.

_Jack was fourteen, walking back from selling papers when he heard a cry of pain from an alley. Even though it was getting dark and he needed to get back to the lodging house, Jack turned down the alley. He saw Oscar and Morris DeLancey looming over a figure lying on the ground. Jack fought the two off, earning himself a bruised jaw and a scraped knee in the process. He snatched a rough wooden crutch from Oscar and chased both of them away. The figure on the ground flinched away as Jack approached. It was a boy, smaller and younger-looking than Jack. He had blonde hair and green eyes filled with fear. He looked pale and cold and thin._

_“Hey,” Jack said softly. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I hate those sons-of-bitches too. They ain’t my friends.” He held out his hand to the boy. The boy hesitantly took Jack’s hand, and Jack pulled him to his feet. He handed the crutch to the boy. “You ok?” He asked. The boy nodded._

_“I think so,” he said, his voice quiet and timid. “Thanks.”_

_“It’s nothin’,” Jack said. “What’s your name?”_

_“Crutchie,” The boy said._

_“I’m Jack,” Jack said.“You gotta home, Crutchie?” Crutchie shook his head. “That’s okay,” Jack said. “I know a place where you can stay. You gotta job?” Again, Crutchie shook his head. “Well why dontcha be a newsie with me?” Jack suggested._

_“You’d wanna cripple workin’ with ya?” Crutchie asked, looking at the ground._

_“It don’t matter as long as you can sell papes,” Jack said._

_“But I dunno if I can sell papes,” Crutchie said._

_“Aw, sure ya can,” Jack said. “I bet you’ll be real good at it. I’ll teach ya. C’mon.”_  The dream faded, and was replaced with another one.

_“What’s the board say, Jack?” Crutchie asked. True to Jack’s prediction, Crutchie had gotten really good at selling papers, even though he’d only been with Jack and his group for a couple weeks. Every day, he asked Jack to read the board that read the headlines that were written on a chalkboard in the square. Jack didn’t mind reading the board for Crutchie, but he did start to get curious about why Crutchie didn’t read the board himself._

_“Hey Crutchie,” he said one day as they walked home together. Crutchie could’ve found his own spot to sell papers, but he preferred to stick with Jack. Jack didn’t mind. He liked having Crutchie around._

_“Yeah?” Crutchie replied._

_“D’you need glasses?” Jack said. “You always ask me ta read the board for ya. There’s an eye doctor that’s taken a likin’ ta us, an’ he works for real cheap. He’s the one who gets Specs new glasses when he needs ‘em.”_

_“It ain’t that I can’t see the board,” Crutchie mumbled. “Just can’t read it.”_

_“You can’t read?” Jack asked. Crutchie shook his head and looked down at the ground, ashamed._

_“Hey, it’s alright,” Jack said. “Lots a the boys can’t read. You’ll be alright, an’ I’m happy ta keep readin’ the board for ya.” Crutchie smiled, and Jack grinned back. As they passed a small bookshop, Jack stopped Crutchie. “Wait out here for a minute,” he said. “I gotta go get Chuck his pape.” He disappeared into the shop, returning a few minutes later, tucking something in his bag._

_“What’s that?” Crutchie asked._

_“Chuck was feeling generous today,” Jack replied. “Gave me a cookie. I’ll share it with ya later._

_“Alright,” Crutchie said. They went back to the lodging house, talking and laughing. Jack smiled. Crutchie had changed drastically from that pale, scared little boy Jack had defended a few weeks ago. He had a bright, sunny personality, always smiling brightly and cracking jokes. It made Jack happy. That night, as the rest of the lodging house was asleep, Jack lit a candle and walked over to Crutchie’s bed. He carried the picture book he had bought from Chuck earlier under his arm, along with paper and pencils._

_“What’s goin’ on, Jack?” Crutchie asked. He was still wide awake._

_“I’m gonna teach ya how ta read,” Jack said. He wrote the letter “A” on a piece of paper, and began the long, slow process of teaching Crutchie how to read. Crutchie struggled with it a lot, but Jack never yelled, never got frustrated. He just kept gently, patiently teaching Crutchie every night. Then, one night as Crutchie was trying to struggle through the picture book, something clicked. All of the squiggles and lines on the page turned to letters, and those letters turned to words. He was reading! Jack grinned, and engulfed him in a bear hug._

_“Ya did it, Crutchie! He said. “You’s readin’!”_ This dream, too, faded.

_Jack was older now, sixteen, sitting on the roof, looking out at the city. Everything was silent and peaceful until, and Jack was lost in his thoughts until a clang shook him out of his reverie. He looked over, and saw Crutchie’s crutch lying on the rooftop by the ladder. He turned, intending to give whoever had thrown the crutch a piece of his mind. He knew that the boys liked playing pranks on each other, but he’d made it clear that Crutchie was off-limits. Then he saw Crutchie’s arm come up onto the rooftop. He smiled, and helped his friend up._

_“You’s supposed ta be asleep,” he said._

_“So’re you,” Crutchie replied, shivering a little in the cold night air. “I couldn’t sleep, an’ I figured you weren’t asleep either, so I decided ta come join ya up here.” Jack smiled, and brought Crutchie over to where he’d been sitting, wrapping his blanket around Crutchie’s shoulders._

_“Jack, this is yours!” Crutchie protested._

_“You need it more than I do,” Jack replied._

_“We’ll share,” Crutchie said firmly._

_“Alright,” Jack relented, knowing that there was no way that he could change Crutchie’s mind on this. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders as well. Crutchie lay his head in Jack’s lap._

_“I can see why ya like it up here so much,” Crutchie said. “It’s real pretty. All the stars up there an’ the city lights down below.”_

_“Yeah,” Jack said, smiling as he watched Crutchie, his face filled with wonder, the twinkling stars reflected in those beautiful jade-green eyes._

_“M’sorry,” Crutchie said suddenly._

_“What for?” Jack asked._

_“Comin’ up here without askin’ first,” Crutchie replied. “I know we ain’t supposed ta do that.”_

_“Aw, that rule don’t apply ta you, Crutchie,” Jack said. “It’s mainly ta keep Race an’ Al an’ the rest a them from comin’ up here an’ makin’ a mess. But you can come up here anytime ya want.”_

_“Really?” Crutchie asked._

_“Yeah," Jack replied._

_“That’s real nice a you, Jack,” Crutchie mumbled, and Jack looked down and saw him half asleep. He smiled._

_“Go ta sleep, Crutchie,” he said._

_“Only if you go ta sleep too,” Crutchie said._

_“Alright,” Jack said. Crutchie smiled and drifted off to sleep. Jack looked down at him. Crutchie looked like an angel, bathed in the soft, pale moonlight. His fluffy blonde hair tickled Jack’s arms, and Jack could see the little splash of freckles across his nose. That was the moment that Jack knew for sure: he was in love with Crutchie Morris. He picked Crutchie up, wrapping the blanket around his friend. The crutch under one arm, he carried the sleeping boy back into the lodging house. He intended just to tuck Crutchie in and go to his own bed, but Crutchie’s fingers curled into Jack’s shirt and Jack just couldn’t leave. He curled around Crutchie, holding him close to his chest, protecting him from the world for as long as he could_


	3. Gay Reunion

It’s been two weeks since Crutchie got taken. The Manhattan newsies continue their strike, but carefully, carefully. They make a friend in a reporter named Katherine, the rebellious daughter of the very man they’re striking against. Jack gets a letter from Crutchie from the Refuge, which makes him cry for three days straight. Right now, Jack is in Pulitzer’s office for what he hopes will be the last time. He and the other newsies have gotten all the child laborers to strike, effectively shutting the city down. They’re currently in an argument involving both Snyder and Pulitzer, as well as Jack and Davey, when the doors are thrown open, and in strides Theodore Roosevelt. Following him are two policemen and someone else, someone small and slim, someone with fluffy blonde hair and shining green eyes and a smile that lights up the entire room. _Crutchie_. If it weren’t for the present company, Jack would have run and kissed Crutchie right then and there, but he holds back. Roosevelt announces that Snyder is under arrest for embezzlement and misappropriation of state funds, and Crutchie gets to put the handcuffs on him. He also whacks Snyder’s ass with his crutch on the way out, just for good measure. Jack laughs for the first time since Crutchie was taken away. He’s missed the boy. Jack is able to negotiate a compromise with Pulitzer, and it’s written out and signed by both of them, Jack’s huge, sprawling signature next to Pulitzer’s small, neat one. Then they can go. As soon as they step out of the building, Jack grabs Crutchie’s face and kisses him. He doesn’t think before he does it, only as he’s doing it. For a second he’s terrified that this isn’t what Crutchie wants, but all of those fears disappear as Crutchie melts into the kiss.

“ _Jack_ ,” Crutchie whispers as they pull apart, and the sound of his name whispered like that, so full of love and happiness and need, makes Jack melt too. In that moment, there’s only him and Crutchie. He pulls Crutchie close, Crutchie’s face buried in his chest, and Jack is crying again. Judging by the wet spot seeping through his vest and shirt, Crutchie is crying too.

“God, I’m so sorry, Crutchie,” Jack whispers. “I promised I’d protect ya. Promised I’d be there for ya. But I wasn’t. I froze, an’ you got dragged off ta that hellhole, the one place I promised I’d never let ya get taken ta. I’m so sorry.”

“Jack, it’s alright,” Crutchie mumbles. “S’alright, Jackie. M’here now. I’m safe.”

“I ain’t lettin’ ya go again,” Jack swears. “ _Never_.” Crutchie smiles, pulling Jack into another kiss.

“Alright, Jackie,” he says. “But what about Santa Fe? Ya told me about it so many times.”

“I think I’m gonna stay here for a while,” Jack replies. “An’ when I go, you bet your ass I’m takin’ ya with me. Can’t live my dream without you.”

“Alright, Jackie,” Crutchie says again, his smile brighter than the sun. “Alright.”


End file.
